


Heavenstuck and Hellbent

by DernierSoleil (austeyre)



Category: Homestuck, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Cameos by pretty much every celestial being you can think of, Excessive use of chat logs, Multi, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 12:20:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/austeyre/pseuds/DernierSoleil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is DEAN, and your brother SAM has just roped you into playing a STUPID VIDEO GAME.  You are pretty sure that you HATE IT, almost as much as you hate that STUPID CHAT CLIENT through which these RANDOM IDIOTS keep harassing you.  TROLLING, if you will.  Your interests include SAVING PEOPLE and HUNTING THINGS, the FAMILY BUSINESS.<br/>What will you do? </p><p>Or, the one where Dean plays Sburb, Cas is an alien, and Lucifer reads too much Milton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. PREFACE

**Author's Note:**

> The "Superstuck Fic of Shame" began as an attempt to write something for the Dean/Cas Big Bang 2012, but ended up not being finished in time. It's still not finished as I post this, but I wanted to post it act by act. I'm on Act V now, but I'm going to stagger the updates a bit to give me time to finish the whole thing. I have a bad track record for finishing fic, fair warning, but this one has consumed my life far more than any other fic so there is a good chance this monstrosity will actually get completed at some point.

**Preface**

  
A young man stands in his bedroom.  It just so happens that today is the 24th of April.  So far as he is currently aware, there is nothing special about today.  That would be because, despite the very strong attachment this man has for his car, he does not know that it was on this date in 1967 when that very vehicle rolled off the assembly line in Janesville, Wisconsin.  But as I said, as far as this man is concerned, this morning is as any other.  His name has just been called repeatedly from downstairs, which is the only reason he is currently vertical and not still passed out face-down on his mattress.

  
Hmm, this is odd, I can’t seem to recall just what name was being called.  What was this man’s name again?  
  
>Enter name.  
  
Wait, what are you doing?  You can’t enter his name, and there are a few good reasons why not.  First of all, this isn’t actually one of those weird puzzle games where you have a say in what happens next.  Second of all, this young man already has a name, which I have conveniently remembered just now.  

His name is Dean Winchester, and he wants to know why in God’s name he’s been woken up.


	2. ACT I

Dean is dragged unwillingly into wakefulness at the crack of noon to his brother calling him from downstairs. He’d actually managed a rare full night’s sleep, having passed out as soon as he’d hit the mattress in Bobby’s spare room shortly after they’d arrived. They’d driven through the night to get back in time for whatever fresh hell Bobby had for them to look into next. It had ended up being a false alarm, as Bobby had cheerfully informed them as soon as they got in the door. Dean had been pissed, at first, for having driven all that way for nothing, but a very small part of him allowed that it was still good to see Bobby again, not to mention the chance to sleep on a mattress that didn’t belong to a seedy motel. At any rate, the shouting that had roused him hadn’t been in alarm, from what Dean could tell, so he took his sweet time getting dressed, pausing in the middle of the room for a moment to stretch, still bleary-eyed, before heading downstairs. 

In the kitchen, Sam was sitting at the table with his back to Dean, typing something on his laptop.  
"Oh good, you're alive. I was starting to wonder if you'd died in your sleep." Sam said without turning, still tapping away.  
Dean made an unimpressed face at his back, wandering over to seek out breakfast. Bobby was nowhere to be seen, probably out in the yard tinkering with something, and Dean figured he'd join him after he'd ingested enough caffeine to function properly. He poured himself a large mug, shamelessly draining what had been left in pot. He then proceeded to nab a slice of bread, slather some peanut butter on it, and jam it into his mouth before wandering over to see what Sam was doing.  
"Mmphh uhmmph?"  
Sam didn't even look up, but Dean could imagine the bitch face he was probably pulling.  
"Dude. Gross. Chew, and try again."  
Dean made a face at the back of his brother's head, but he finished chewing and washed it down with a swig of (unpleasantly tepid) coffee before speaking again.  
"Whatcha up to, Sammy?" He chose to ignore the eye roll this earned him. Geeze, you try to take an interest... Instead, he leaned closer to peer at the screen. "Chatting up someone from the internet, are we?" He glanced at the username. "morpheanAu- eugh, dude, isn't that Chuck?"  
"Life. Porno. Two different things. Also, gross. Just friends, trust me."  
"Whatever helps you sleep at night." Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder as he left, having lost interest once he realized it was just Chuck. Besides, he didn't see the appeal of this new chat program that Sam and Chuck were obsessed with. He'd caved under Sammy's nagging and gotten a "chump-handle" or whatever the hell it was, but he felt no need to use it when he had several perfectly good cell phones with which he could communicate like a normal person. Sam had given him shit for that one, insisting he was "behind the times." 'Course, he'd said something similar about Dean's baby, and so clearly had no idea what he was talking about.  
Outside, he caught sight of Bobby's legs poking out from underneath a beat-up old sedan, and he was just about to go over and offer his help when he heard his phone go off in his pocket. He checked it, scowling when he realized that it wasn't a text like he'd assumed, but an instant message. Sam must have put Pesterchum on his phone when he hadn't been paying attention. His brow furrowed further when he didn't recognize the handle.

\-- solitaryTempest [ST] began pestering rakishSentinel [RS] \--   
ST: Dean Winchester

Dean simply stared for a moment before thumbing out a response.

RS: uh yeah thats me  
RS: whos this   
ST: I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.  
ST: Or, rather, I will be.  
ST: It is somewhat complex, temporally.   
RS: yeah thanks for that  
RS: that explains just about nothing   
ST: We need to talk, Dean.   
RS: well you can start with explaining just who the hell you are   
ST: My apologies.  
ST: I am Castiel.  
ST: I have been watching over you for some time now.   
RS: well thats probably one of the creepiest things ive heard from a stranger  
RS: what do you want from me   
ST: I merely want you to listen.  
ST: Your brother is at this very moment setting in motion a chain of events which will put you all in grave danger.  
ST: The severity of this danger will not become apparent immediately, but rest assured, it will in time.  
ST: No matter what, you must listen to your brother and do as he instructs, regardless of how unimportant or childish it may appear.   
RS: right  
RS: listen  
RS: if youve been watching me or whatever youd know that my brother and i do dangerous shit all the time  
RS: and last i checked sammy was just talking to chuck how the hell is that setting off a dangerous chain of events   
ST: I am afraid that I cannot explain further.   
RS: well thats just fucking peachy   
ST: I am sorry, Dean.  
ST: Giving you this warning, sparse as it is, is already pushing luck far further than is likely wise.  
ST: I will say, though, that this will be like nothing you have ever faced.   
RS: well thats comforting  
RS: thanks for that   
ST: Take heart, Dean Winchester. You are better equipped to survive than most. Should you follow your instincts, you may make it through relatively unscathed.   
RS: again  
RS: real comforting   
ST: There is no need for your human "sarcasm", Dean. I am trying to help you.   
RS: yeah some help you are   
ST: I see.  
ST: I have done all I can.  
ST: Goodbye, Dean.   
RS: woah hold up  
RS: you cant just drop something like this on me and then leave without explaining   
ST: I have said all that I can.  
ST: I am sorry.   
\-- solitaryTempest [ST] ceased pestering rakishSentinel [RS] \--   
RS: well fuck

Dean resisted the urge to toss his phone away in frustration. He cast another glance over to where Bobby was still working, sighed, and went back into the house. Apparently he and Sam needed to have a little chat.

MA: C'mon pleeeease?   
SR: I still don't think it'll work  
SR: Remember what Ash said   
MA: Pfwft  
MA: Ash doesn't kmow shid  
MA: *know shit  
MA: Plus he's refusing to play, he is clearly not to be trusted about this stuff.   
SR: I don't know  
SR: Maybe I could convince Dean   
MA: Yeah, good luck woth that.  
MA: *with  
MA: Look, just be my servfr pkayer, I'll be yours, and we're goqod to go.  
MA: *se3ver player  
MA: *goode  
MA: oh fuck it you know what i mean  
MA: I'll even let yoau play first, even twhough the whole things was my idae   
SR: Dude, are you even sober enough to play?  
SR: Besides, we still don't know if a two-player session will run properly  
SR: Oh, hang on, Dean just came back in, I'll ask him

If Dean hadn’t been worried after that ominous IM, he was definitely worried now when he entered the kitchen and saw the look on Sam’s face. It was his most pathetic puppy face, the one he used when he really wanted something, and Dean knew that he’d end up giving in to whatever was asked of him whether he liked it or not.  
“What is it this time, Sam.”  
“What makes you think I want something?" Sam was using his best innocent voice. Dean didn't buy it for a second. He gave him a look.  
Sam switched tactics.  
"So, you remember how you owe me for saving your ass last week?"  
Dean groaned. Of course he would bring that up.  
"Yeah, yeah. What is it?"  
Sam gave him a triumphant grin.  
"You remember that game I told you about?"  
"The one Chuck won't shut up about? Yeah, what about it?"  
"Well..." The puppy face reappeared, and Dean realized what he was after.  
"Oh, hell no. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I am not playing that stupid game with you guys."  
"Come on, Dean, it's better with more people, and we don't even know if it will work with just two of us."  
"So get Ash to play, he'd be all over that shit, wouldn't he?"  
"I already tried. He freaked out for some reason, backed out. Wouldn't even tell us why, and he gets all cagey if you even mention it." Sam shrugged. "So yeah, no-go on Ash, either."  
"What about Jo? Isn't she secretly a bit of a geek?"  
"Haven't been able to ask, she and Ellen are on a hunt, not sure when they'll be back."  
Dean could feel himself resigning already, but he gave a last, desperate try.  
"What about Bobby?"  
Sam just bitchfaced at him, and Dean sighed.  
"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"  
"Probably." Sam informed him cheerfully, already back to tapping away at his keyboard.

SR: You so owe me   
MA: No shit, uyou actually mbanagedl it? HOW?!  
MA: *managed   
SR: I have my ways  
SR: Didn't even take much, actually  
SR: Maybe he secretly wants to play or something   
MA: Whatever it is, I'm not duestixning it  
MA: *questioning   
SR: How did you even manage that, that looked nothing like the word you were going for   
MA: Mad skills  
MA: So does this mean yoy're my server player again?   
SR: Seems like it  
SR: You'll have to be Dean's, then   
MA: I am liking this pian more and more  
MA: *plan

“No. No, absolutely not. There is no way I am letting that fruitcake have any kind of power over me, even just in a game.”  
“Deeeeean.”  
“No.”  
“We can get someone else?”  
“Dude, the only reason I agreed to play is ‘cause you couldn’t get anyone else. Well, and you looked so damn pathetic.”  
“Yeah, but maybe now that you’re in, we can get someone else to join. Maybe Bobby will, even.”  
“I will what? What’re you boys dragging me into now?” The man in question chose that moment to wander in, absentmindedly wiping the grease from his hands with a rag. Sam had the grace to look sheepish, but Dean pushed on regardless.  
“Samantha here,” Sam scowled at him, “refuses to play some big scary video game alone, and he suckered me into playing because apparently Chuck wasn’t good enough or something. ‘Course, then he turned around and told me that Chuck is going to have some kind of awesome power over me in the game, which is definitely not what I signed up for.”  
“Chuck? That wingnut? Can’t say I blame you. What’s this got to do with me?” He caught sight of Sam and Dean’s faces. “Oh. So I take it I’m supposed to drop everything and play some stupid game with you boys so you don’t end up killing each other?”  
The Winchesters exchanged a look, and Bobby heaved a long-suffering sigh.  
“Well, I guess there’s nothing for it, then. Just tell me how this thing works, and I’ll take it from there.”

It turned out that the only other computer Bobby had was an ancient desktop, which Dean regarded skeptically as they loaded up the files Chuck had sent. To his great surprise, it actually seemed to work.  
"It says it's waiting for the client. Boy, you better get moving before I change my mind." Bobby grumbled, settling down in front of the computer. As he did, a message window appeared.

\-- dapperInveigler [DI] began pestering apotropicScholar [AS] \--   
DI: You haven't a clue what you're doing, have you.   
AS: I'm sorry, but who is this?   
DI: SSomeone who wishess to help   
AS: Well that ain't suspect at all, particularly with the hissing or whatever that's supposed to be.   
DI: I refusse to apologize for the way I sspeak. Now do you want my help or not? You have a very important role, Bobby SSinger, and it iss in your besst interesst not to bollockss it up.  
DI: Not to mention the besst interesstss of your co-playerss.   
AS: Uh huh. And following the advice of a mysterious person on the internet is clearly the way to go. Do you think I'm some kind of idjit? What makes you think I'll trust you?   
DI: What other choice do you have? Go in blindly?  
DI: You're a hunter, aren't you? You should know better than that.   
AS: ...  
AS: Balls.  
AS: Alright, what the hell am I supposed to be doing?   
DI: Excellent choice.

Dean returned to his own laptop, where they had already installed the game. His phone went off just as he hit "Enter" to start.

\-- solitaryTempest [ST] began pestering rakishSentinel [RS] \--   
ST: Dean.   
RS: you again  
RS: ever heard of hello   
ST: Hello.   
RS: well there you go  
RS: what do you want this time   
ST: You have commenced the game.   
RS: what this sburb thing  
RS: yeah  
RS: howd you know  
RS: wait i forgot you watch me or whatever   
ST: I wish to offer my assistance.   
RS: what like a walkthrough  
RS: what happened to not being able to talk about this shit  
RS: since this is what you were talking about before right  
RS: with my brother setting off a chain of events or whatever by getting me to play  
RS: i gotta say  
RS: this doesnt look too dangerous to me  
RS: unless bobby manages to drop something on me or my baby  
RS: which wouldnt surprise me   
ST: I was not aware that there was an infant present. That does rather complicate matters.   
RS: what  
RS: no!!! geeze  
RS: i meant my car   
ST: I see.  
ST: Also yes, you are correct, there is no danger present... Yet. However, this is but the beginning. Once you have progressed to The Medium, this will change.   
RS: alright  
RS: so this game has a difficulty curve then   
ST: I am unfamiliar with this term.   
ST: If you mean that the level of difficulty will increase as the game progresses at a rate which when plotted out on a graph would curve sharply upwards, then yes.   
RS: i have no idea what the hell you just said but bring it on  
RS: how do i get to this medium   
ST: There are steps to be taken before you may enter the Medium.  
ST: Your server player is at this moment receiving instructions from an acquaintance of mine. Should you choose to accept my aid, between the four of us, things should progress smoothly.   
RS: yeah alright i guess  
RS: where do i start?   
ST: Simply follow your host player's lead. I will elaborate as necessary.   
RS: oh  
RS: kay

DI: Okay. Firsst thing'ss firsst. You sshould know that thiss game affectss your immediate ssurroundingss, or rather, thosse of your client player.  
DI: SSince the three of you are occupying the ssame human dwelling, I am unssure what ssort of effect thiss will have on your ssessssion.   
AS: Well, that's helpful. So what, if I move something in the game, it moves for real?   
DI: For a certain definition of real, yess.  
DI: Go on, give it a try.

Frowning, Bobby moved the cursor over and selected a book from the table, lifting it up. He heard a gasp from the boys and turned to look. Sure enough, the book was hovering a few feet off the table.  
“Well, would you look at that.”

AS: Alright, I believe you. What now?   
DI: Now, we begin the game proper.

RS: woah  
RS: okay  
RS: what the hell kind of game is this   
ST: I believe you would call it an "immersive sandbox-style game". It superimposes itself over the real world, rather than existing in a virtual reality.   
RS: two minutes ago i would have called bullshit  
RS: but now im pretty sure i believe you  
RS: damn im glad i didnt let chuck do this   
ST: It would indeed have ended rather catastrophically.   
RS: hehe   
ST: Ah. That would be an amused response, which would follow something humorous. You misunderstand. It would quite literally have ended in catastrophe.   
ST: In fact, technically, it has happened that way already, but in an alternate timeline.   
RS: ...  
RS: huh  
RS: right  
RS: so  
RS: youre here to make sure this time around doesnt end up like that one right  
RS: youll tell me if im about to do something thatll fuck us all over   
ST: Yes.   
RS: great  
RS: well for starters you can tell me how the hell to use this thing bobby just dropped in the yard

Between Castiel and DI, they managed to work their way through the set up with minimal incident.

ST: Have you deployed the cruxtruder?   
RS: yeah  
RS: this weird little ball of light came flying out  
RS: right after this green junk popped out  
RS: is it supposed to do that   
ST: Yes. The "ball of light" as you so eloquently put it is your kernelsprite.  
ST: Your server player must now merge an object with it to prototype it.   
RS: uh  
RS: i may have got that covered already   
ST: Oh. I see. Was that holy water?   
RS: it startled me okay   
ST: Well, I suppose it could be worse.   
RS: oh thats comforting   
ST: Well, so long as you avoid a second prototyping until you enter the medium, it should all work out.   
RS: ohmygod what is bobby doing with my baby   
ST: It would appear that your server player had other ideas about the prototyping of your kernelsprite.   
RS: you have got to be fucking kidding me  
RS: so what that was the second prototyping  
RS: the one you said we weren’t supposed to do until later  
RS: great  
RS: is my baby okay?   
ST: I believe you should ask her that for yourself.

Dean gave his phone a disbelieving look. Clearly, Cas was as insane as he’d originally suspected him to be.

RS: what the hell is that supposed to mean

Impalasprite: Hey Dean.

RS: okay i am seriously regretting playing this goddamn game now  
RS: apparently my car is talking to me   
SR: Dude, I’d have thought you’d be creaming yourself right now  
SR: Isn’t this like a dream come true for you?   
RS: i hate you

Impalasprite: Alright, enough standing around with your mouth hanging open.  
Impalasprite: There’s a meteor with your name on it about 3 minutes from impact, so if I were you, I’d get your ass in gear.   
Impalasprite: Splattered on the underside of a meteor isn’t a good look for you.

ST: I would recommend listening to your sprite. She will serve as your guide.   
RS: wait what  
RS: i thought you were the one helping me   
ST: I will continue to provide guidance in addition to your sprite, provided that this is what you desire.  
ST: However, now is not the time to carry out this discussion. There is yet work to be done before you can be transported to the Medium.  
ST: I would remind you that the lives of your brother and server player depend upon your swift activation of the remaining devices.

Despite not entirely believing this whole bizarre situation, Dean managed to return to the task at hand. Fiddling with the equipment in the yard yielded an alarmingly green and crystalline slice of pie, which seemed to be made of the same odd substance that had composed the dowel from earlier. He was apparently supposed to do something to it to activate it and send him to this Medium that Cas had mentioned. He eyed the pie with some trepidation, before shrugging and deciding to go with his first instinct, shoving a good portion of it into his mouth. It tasted of apples.


	3. ACT II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know when you think you've finished something, but then you take a closer look and get your friends to look it over and realize that it still needs a lot of work?  
> Yeah.  
> That's what happened with this chapter.  
> 

Dean blinked, and found himself surrounded by blackness. He could hear what seemed to be wind howling around him, but the air was still. At least, he thought it was air. At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised by anything. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He was at least a little bit surprised at this Medium he kept hearing about. It looked like someone had ripped out the chunk of Bobby’s yard that he’d been standing on, and dropped it into a void. Considerably less impressive than Cas had led him to believe. 

AS: You okay, boy?  
RS: yeah  
RS: where the hell did you guys go  
AS: Where’d we go?  
AS: Where’d YOU go?!  
AS: You just disappeared!  
AS: There’s a goddamn hole where my yard used to be!  
AS: Remind me to never let you boys drag me into anything ever again.

ST: Dean.  
ST: Dean?  
ST: Hello? 

Dean was forced to ignore the buzzing of his phone in favor of scrambling for something with which to fight off the horde that was closing in on him -shiny black creatures wearing what appeared to be religious headgear. They were like nothing he’d seen before, and he had a brief hysterical thought that Cas had been right about that after all. Then the years of being a hunter kicked back in, and he grabbed an iron poker from the pile of things that had been ejected from the Impala after the prototyping fiasco, figuring it was as good a bet as any against these things. He’d lost sight of the Impala-lady-ghost, too, which he would worry about later when he wasn’t faced with a rapidly advancing crowd of midgets with exoskeletons.  
Much to Dean’s dismay, the iron didn’t seem to faze the creatures. They kept advancing, effectively cutting him off from the pile of (probably also useless) weapons and things. He edged carefully back, checking his phone with one hand and impotently swinging the fire poker in the other.

ST: I appreciate that you are otherwise occupied, but I have some rather important information for you.  
ST: Dean?  
RS: bit busy here cas  
RS: these little fuckers wont seem to die  
RS: some advice would be pretty damn helpful right now  
ST: That is what I was attempting to contact you about.  
ST: You will remain unable to do any sort of lasting damage to the imps until you allocate your strife specibus.  
RS: this game is fucking weird

Dean fumbled with the strange intangibility of the cards until he found the right one, combining it with the weapon in his hand to gain the improbable sounding FRPKRKIND. Whatever that meant, it seemed to work, because the next swipe at the nearest imp sent it exploding into what looked like Fruit Gushers. In a matter of minutes, he'd taken out the crowd that had gathered around him, and the imps were rather less eager to advance towards him than before.

RS: want to explain why these tiny little freaks in pope hats just exploded into candy  
ST: As I mentioned before, the Medium is where the game becomes more challenging.  
RS: challenging my ass these things went down in one hit  
ST: Yes. I had not anticipated your prior experience being carried over into the game. You appear to have commenced the game at a more advanced level of your escheladder than most.  
ST: As it is, the imps that populate the Medium should pose little challenge to you.  
RS: okay so what I just go around picking off imps now  
RS: tell me thats not all there is to this game  
RS: i get enough of this shit in the real world  
ST: For all intents and purposes, this game is your "real world" until the termination of either yourself or the game.  
RS: wow  
RS: way to put it bluntly  
ST: My apologies.  
ST: It may please you to know that killing imps is only one of the tasks set to you while within the Medium, although it is rather important.  
ST: You have already noticed the grist dropped by the imps. You must collect as much of it as possible, as your server player needs it to build your way out.  
RS: so ive got to get up to that floating portal thing in the sky  
RS: awesome  
ST: You must eventually, yes. However, and this part may be more to your liking, you should also alchemize yourself some new weapons and accouterments before you go.  
RS: did you just say accouterments  
RS: dude hate to break it to you but no one says shit like that anymore  
RS: not even bobby  
RS: i swear its like youre from a different planet  
ST: I believe you would call it Heaven.  
RS: ha  
RS: so what does that make you my personal guardian angel  
ST: In a manner of speaking, yes.  
RS: either youre getting really good at this deadpan stuff  
RS: or youre actually telling the truth  
RS: which im not sure id put past you  
RS: please tell me youre kidding  
RS: youre not actually from a different planet right  
ST: I would not lie to you, Dean.  
RS: wow okay  
RS: what  
RS: youre an alien  
ST: To you, yes. In the same way, you are an alien to me.  
RS: oh  
ST: Is this a problem?  
ST: Dean?  
ST: I see.  
ST: Very well.  
ST: You know how to contact me if you encounter further issue with the game.  
ST: Goodbye, Dean.  
\-- solitaryTempest [ST] ceased pestering rakishSentinel [RS] \--

One of the few remaining imps had emerged from wherever they hid and made the mistake of approaching Dean, who took it out with one vicious swipe of the fire poker. He heard his phone go off a few more times before falling silent, but he ignored it once more in favor of seeking out and bashing at any imps he could find until they exploded into grist. After he'd circled the yard a couple times without seeing any more imps, he gave in and checked his phone, ignoring the messages from Cas. His attempts to call Bobby proved that his phone didn't actually have any signal. It would appear that whatever sort of signal it was that allowed him to use Pesterchum didn't carry over to his phone's other functions. It figured.

\-- rakishSentinel [RS] began pestering apotropicScholar [AS] \--  
RS: bobby  
RS: please tell me you know what to do next  
AS: That's a fine hello.  
AS: As it happens, I do. I've got this weirdo feeding me hints. Says I'm supposed to build you some kind of ladder.  
RS: yeah  
RS: i uh  
RS: heard something similar  
AS: Oh really.  
AS: Would that be from the new friend you keep messaging?  
AS: Trust you to find yourself a ladyfriend in the middle of all this.  
RS: cas isnt a ladyfriend  
AS: So her name's Cas.  
RS: yeah but no  
RS: i mean he could be a chick for all i know  
RS: or something else  
RS: who fucking knows  
RS: since apparently cas isnt even human  
AS: Well damn.  
AS: You sure know how to pick 'em.  
RS: can we not  
AS: Yeah, sure, we'll save the chat about your feelings for later.  
RS: seriously what the hell bobby  
RS: i think samanthas getting to you  
AS: Har har.  
AS: I hope you like climbing.  
AS: Idjit.  
\-- apotropicScholar [AS] ceased pestering rakishSentinel [RS] \--

 

\-- apotropicScholar [AS] began pestering rakishSentinel [RS] \--  
AS: While I'm at it, you can make yourself useful.  
AS: Use that alchemizer thing and make yourself some new gear. Apparently you're gonna need it.  
\-- apotropicScholar [AS] ceased pestering rakishSentinel [RS] \--

 

Dean gave the alchemiter a speculative look. He was pretty sure he remembered Cas mentioning something about combining the captcha codes of different items to create different but related items. Or something like that. It hadn’t made much sense at the time, so he hadn’t paid much attention. He decided to just go for it and see what happened, picking two nearby items at random and lining up their cards. Luckily, he was spared the possibly disastrous results of this by the pinging of his phone, signaling he had another message. He checked it almost reflexively, expecting it to be Cas or maybe Bobby. It wasn’t.

\-- debauchedTrickster [DT] began trolling rakishSentinel [RS] \--  
DT: Oh MaN, YoU SuRe YoU WaNnA Do ThAt?  
RS: what  
RS: whats wrong with this  
DT: Oh, NoThInG  
DT: JuSt A HORRIBLE WaStE Of GrIsT  
DT: SeRiOuSlY, WhAt ArE YoU EvEn ThInKiNg  
RS: i don't fucking know  
RS: i barely even know what this thing does  
RS: also who the fuck are you  
DT: YoUr FrIeNdLy NeIgHbOuRhOoD PrOmEtHeUs  
RS: look  
RS: i have had it up to here with this bullshit from random strangers thing  
DT: WoAh, EaSy TiGeR, I'M JuSt TrYiNg To Be HeLpFuL  
RS: great  
RS: you can help by either explaining yourself or fucking right off  
DT: YeEsH, ArEn'T YoU JuSt A BuNdLe Of JoY  
DT: IT’S GABRIEL, ALRIGHT?  
DT: you can call me gabriel  
DT: NoW QuIt WaStInG TiMe AnD TrY ThIs OuT FoR SiZe

Dean plugged in the code he was given, more out of curiosity than actual acceptance of this guy’s help.

RS: its a horn  
DT: NoT JuSt AnY OlD HoRn, My FrIeNd. ThAt RiGhT ThErE Is A BoNaFiDe HoRn Of TrUtH  
RS: right  
DT: WoAh HoLd Up  
DT: WhAt ArE YoU DoInG  
RS: making some improvements

Dean got the POKER OF TRUTH.

DT: ThAt'S PrAcTiCaLlY SaCrIlEgE

Dean gave it a couple experimental swishes.

RS: not bad  
DT: HeAtHeN  
DT: AcTuAlLy, On ThAt NoTe, YoU'Ll LiKe ThIs  
RS: is that  
DT: YeP  
RS: thats  
DT: YoUrE WeLcOmE  
RS: where did you even find this  
DT: DoN'T AsK  
DT: CoMbInE It WiTh YoUr CoMpUtEr, ThAnK Me LaTeR

Dean got the CASA LAPTOPICA.

RS: nice  
DT: Oh, It GeTs BeTtEr

Dean got the PRON HELMTOP.

DT: No HaNdS!  
RS: dude, seriously? you went there?  
DT: hey, dean-o. i got news for you.  
DT: THIS GAME IS A SHITSHOW  
DT: If YoU CaN'T EnJoY ThE LiTtLe ThInGs  
DT: ThEn WhAt ThE HeLl Is ThE PoInT?  
DT: NoW CoMe On, I'M EnJoYiNg AlChEmIzInG ViCaRiOuSlY ThRoUgH YoU  
DT: TrY ThIs On FoR SiZe

By the time he was done, Dean had amassed some pretty sweet gear. Along with the futuristic and slightly distracting computer headset thing that Gabriel had set him up with, he had a bunch of kickass variations on the fire poker, some assorted basic hunting gear that he’d taken the liberty of upgrading, and a pile of assorted useless shit that had seemed like a good idea at the time.  
There had also been the matter of a mode of transportation to replace his baby. Gabriel had been pretty firm about a car not being necessary, once he’d had the concept of a car explained to him, so Dean had gone for the next best thing -as much as he couldn’t stand flying in an aircraft, there was no denying that jetpacks were pretty damn cool.

Gabriel had buggered off once he got bored, or at least that’s what Dean assumed happened when he randomly ceased pestering him; the guy didn’t seem to have much of an attention span. Still, the guy had been pretty alright as far as unwanted conversational partners went, even if his typing style was a bit hard to follow at times. It definitely could have been worse.

Of course, despite the weird game mechanics that had apparently taken over, this was still Dean’s life. A chat window from Bobby popped up, ignored for the moment because it was followed a half-second later by yet another message from a handle he didn’t recognize.

\-- marineTheophile [MT] began pestering rakishSentinel [RS] \--  
MT: Dean Winchester  
RS: oh god another one  
MT: Ah Yes, You Have Been Conversing With My Littlest Brother  
RS: you’re gonna have to be more specific  
RS: apparently it’s pester dean day today  
RS: though if you’re talking about bobby, i’m calling bullshit  
MT: I Am Referring To Castiel  
RS: oh  
RS: so you’re cas’ … sibling?  
MT: Yes  
MT: He Has Taken A Perverse Sort Of Interest In You, And I Am Beginning To See Why

Well, that cleared one thing up, while at the same time opening a whole other can of “what the fuck”. 

RS: you have got to be kidding me  
RS: please tell me you aren't creeping on me too  
RS: oh god you totally are aren't you  
MT: I Do Not Creep, I Observe  
RS: well that’s just great  
RS: how ‘bout you observe this  
\-- rakishSentinel [RS] blocked marineTheophile [MT] –-

Dean glanced around, as if looking for hidden cameras or something. He couldn’t see anything, but who knew how these creeps were watching him. He did give a vehement finger to the void around him for good measure, which may or may not have caused his headset to ping once again with a new message.

\-- retroVisionary [RV] began pestering rakishSentinel [RS] \--  
RV: hey mud monkey stop  
RS: what the hell  
RV: i am going to ask nicely stop  
RV: do not make me regret it stop  
RS: stop what?  
RV: unblock michael and desist in your dalliance with castiel stop  
RS: “dalliance”? seriously? what the fuck dude  
RV: i am making this as clear as i possibly can stop  
RV: you will reopen a line of communication with my brother michael stop  
RV: and cease all communication with my brother castiel stop  
RS: oh good another brother  
RS: christ how many of you are there  
RS: don’t answer that i don’t actually care  
RS: oh and for the record  
RS: no chance in hell  
\-- rakishSentinel [RS] blocked retroVisionary [RV] \-- 

Dean watched in horror as the screen of his helmtop changed without his input, his blocked list opening seemingly of its own accord. He’d be the first to admit that he had no idea how even a basic computer worked in the first place, but he was pretty sure that this at least was some Ash-level computational fuckery. Any doubt Dean may have had about who was responsible for this hacking disappeared when a conversation window from RV popped up.

RV: consider this a warning stop  
RV: a sign of things to come if you continue to insist on doing this the hard way stop  
RV: should further action become necessary stop  
RV: well stop  
RV: let us just say that it would be unfortunate for you stop  
\-- retroVisionary [RV] ceased pestering rakishSentinel [RS] \--

Then, just like that, Dean had full control over his headset once again. A conversation window from Michael popped up, but he ignored it, choosing instead to wrench the whole thing off his head and captchalogue it. That done, he headed over to where he could see Bobby making slow progress on his ladder. There was still a good deal of distance to cover, and Bobby seemed to get the hint, because it began expanding rapidly as Dean approached. It was still taking too long for his liking, and so Dean retrieved his jetpack from his sylladex, extended his artificial wings, and blasted off into the void above.


	4. ACT III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not only have I lost control of my life, I've lost control of where I was going with this.  
> It came out a bit rushed, but I'll probably end up revisiting a lot of this in the future. Homestuck's weird jumping around makes me feel justified and that's probably not a good thing.  
> Thanks to Mochi for making sure this was fit to post.

Bobby spared a moment to scowl at the sight of Dean, strapped to some kind of rocket thing, spiraling up towards the portal. At least that took care of one problem. He closed the chat full of increasingly irritated attempts to get Dean to listen to him for a goddamn second and get his ass closer to the portal so he could actually build him a way out of the windy goddamn abyss. This game and its stupid mechanics were going to be the death of him. He cursed, not for the first time, his inability to deny the Winchesters much of anything. With a sigh, he opened up another chat window, moving on to deal with the next issue.

\-- apotropicScholar [AS] began pestering morpheanAugur [MA] \--  
AS: Alright, what's taking you idjits so long to get into the game?  
AS: Some of us have multiple meteors looming over our goddamn houses, this is not the time for your particular brand of drunk crazy.  
MA: i resent that commetn  
MA: and for the recod  
MA: you should be askgin sam about thsi  
MA: he's the one who's having second thoughts  
AS: Balls.

"So, you wanna explain to me just why you thought that it would be a good idea for Chuck to be your server player in the first place? Now, I'm not saying that you ain’t right in changing your mind, but how about you suck it up and just tell Chuck that you don't want his drunk ass in the driver's seat?"  


"This whole thing was his idea, I don't want to do that to him." Sam protested, but it sounded weak even to his ears.  


"Hate to break it to you, kid, but you already have by ignoring his messages. Who the hell are you talking to, by the way, if not him?"  


Sam flushed, and Bobby decided that he really, really didn't want to know.  


"Alright, since I'm apparently the only one who put on his big-boy pants today, I get to decide how this is going down. You," he points an accusatory finger at Sam, "are going to get back on that laptop of yours and tell Chuck that you've decided to be his server player. You're going to get that knucklehead into the game as fast as humanly possible. Meanwhile, Dean is going to man up and get back on track here, get you into the game. Then, because I am a goddamn saint, I am going to hope and pray that Chuck doesn't manage to destroy what's left of my goddamn house when he logs on as my server player and gets me into the game before we all get wiped out by a goddamn meteor. Is that clear enough for you, or do you need me to write it down for you?"  


Sam nodded, chastened.  


"Well, then, what are you waiting for, a sign from the gods? Get movin'!"  


Bobby watched in satisfaction as Sam damn near scurried out of the room. That satisfaction faded far too soon, however, as he realized he was in for another round of trying and failing to get a hold of Dean.  


"Balls."

\-- sanguineParagon [SP] began pestering saliferousRecusant [SR] \--  
SP: ->there sammy now you have no eӿcuse not to play!<-  
SP: ->it'll be fun!<-  
SP: ->trust me<-  
SR: I guess  
SR: I'm worried about Dean, though  
SR: He just disappeared, and he hasn't answered any of my messages  
SP: ->don't worry, it's all part of the game!<-  
SP: ->remember who's actually played before, and kicked some serious ass if i do say so myself<-  
SP: ->which i do<-  
SP: ->because i did<-  
SR: Hah, alright, fine  
SR: Still have to wait for Dean, though  
SR: He’s going to be my server player now I guess  
SR: He just has to check his messages first  
SP: ->don't worry, he'll come around soon enough<-  
SP: ->;]<-  
SP: ->in the meantime, you should tell me more about hunting, it sounds so eӿciting!<-  
SR: I guess  
SR: I don’t know how much of this will make sense to you though  
SR: Do you have demons on your world?  
SP: ->in a matter of speaking<-  
SP: ->i think they're a bit different from yours<-  
SP: ->but we can get into that later, get with the story telling!<-

Dean had really been enjoying flying. Had been, past tense. He’d made it through the weird spirographic portal thing easily, and had come out the other side hovering over what had appeared, at first glance, to be a pocket of Hell the size of a planet. He’d figured out pretty quickly that it wasn’t, aided by both the crowd of bright green crocodile things that rushed out to meet him, and the convenient (if bizarre and inexplicable) giant floating letters that proclaimed it to be the “Land of Blood and Salt”, whatever that meant. As far as names went, it was a bit ominous for his taste, but definitely a step up from Hell.  
Still, once he got past the somewhat morbid scenery, he’d been having a great time swooping around, followed at all times by a small herd of those weird lizard things that made him a little iffy about actually landing. Everything stopped being great about when his headset seemed to retrieve itself from where he’d been hiding it in his sylladex. As if that wasn’t creepy enough, he then had to watch as his own goddamn hands apparently committed mutiny and put the damn thing on his head. He came to an abrupt stop. He felt it then, without the wind rushing past his face, a sort of buzzing pressure in his head. Then, for the second time that day, his computer seemed to move on its own, opening Pesterchum and scrolling through his open chat windows (one from Michael, a wall of text from Bobby wondering what the hell he was doing, and one from Sam asking why he was ignoring Bobby) before settling on a newly opened tab from a handle that he didn’t recognize. The buzzing faded away as lines of text started appearing in the window.

\-- sanguineParagon [SP] began trolling rakishSentinel [RS] \--  
SP: ->whew, that was a bit more challenging than i eӿpected<-  
SP: ->human think pans are weird!<-  
SP: ->you're lucky i didn't cause you any lasting damage!<-  
SP: ->i think your brother might disapprove, so you got off lucky<-  
SP: ->just don't ignore your co-players anymore, okay<-  
RS: that was you?!  
RS: what the fuck!  
SP: ->oh calm down, it was just a bit of harmless mind control<-  
SP: ->it could have been much worse, trust me<-  
SP: ->you need to focus now that you're gonna be sammy's server player<-  
RS: hold up how do you know sam  
SP: ->how do you think genius<-  
SP: ->same way i'm talking to you<-  
SP: ->our options are a bit limited with the whole "separated by the vastness of space" thing<-  
SP: ->though now that i think about it i'm pretty sure that crowley's working on that one, if he doesn't keep getting distracted by your mage<-  
SP: ->heroes of space, i'm telling you<-  
RS: i'm gonna be honest  
RS: i have no idea what you’re talking about, and you're kinda starting to creep me out  
RS: but i feel like if i try to leave you'll just mind whammy me again  
RS: so what do you want from me  
SP: ->sit down, pull out that fancy new computer of yours, and get your brother into the game before he and your server player get crushed by a meteor<-  
SP: ->chop chop!<-  
\-- sanguineParagon [SP] gave up trolling rakishSentinel [RS] \--

Thoroughly weirded out by that whole encounter, and not really wanting to risk more mind control, Dean spiraled down to land, making sure to set down a safe distance from the large bipedal reptiles. Not that it really mattered, because within moments he was surrounded again. They seemed pretty harmless, though, just standing there and making weird “nak” sounds. He retrieved his new laptop from his sylladex, to the great interest of the nakkodiles, who crowded closer still as he booted it up.

RS: you ready to enter the matrix?  
SR: Not funny, Dean  
RS: what’s the matter, wishing you’d taken the blue pill instead?  
SR: Just get me into the game  
RS: you gotta free your mind, sammy  
SR: Shut up

Dean liked to think that he did a much better job of being a server player than Bobby had. For starters, no one’s treasured possessions ended up merging with floating balls of light. Sam apparently had a similar reaction to Dean’s when the kernelsprite flew out of the cruxtruder, except he shot it with rock salt rather than dousing it with holy water. Aside from that first prototyping, there were no other mishaps. Dean deployed all the necessary phernalia. Sam, having already watched Dean do it, activated everything and made it into the Medium in no time, taking another chunk of Bobby’s yard with him.

Meanwhile, within the house itself, Bobby and Chuck weren’t faring quite so well.

AS: And just what do you think you’re doing with that?  
AS: No seriously put that down.  
AS: GENTLY!  
MA: woops  
AS: Balls.

Despite some minor property damage, which Bobby forbade Chuck from “fixing” after the first attempt made things considerably worse, Bobby made it into the Medium in time, although it was a very near thing. He was fairly certain the shingles on his roof were singed from the heat of the meteor that was quite literally a second away from impact.

\-- dapperInveigler [DI] began trolling apotropicScholar [AS] \--  
DI: Well, that was cutting it rather closse, wouldn’t you ssay?  
DI: I like what you’ve done with the place, by the way.  
DI: Very...  
DI: Airy.  
AS: Oh, shut up.   
DI: No, really. It hass a nice, open-concept feel to it now.  
AS: Is this really the time to show off your frankly disturbing knowledge of interior design?  
DI: No time like the pressent.  
DI: You are right, though, there are more pressing isssues at hand.  
DI: Ssuch as how your sserver player thoughtlesssly ssquandered your ssupply of grisst.  
AS: Could you try to fit more ‘s’s into that sentence?  
DI: Mosst likely.  
DI: Now, are you going to lissten or not?  
AS: Yeah, yeah, I’m “lisstening”.  
AS: Chuck did some redecorating and now we’re screwed for building me a way out of here.  
AS: Does that about cover it?  
DI: You forgot the bit where you are alsso unable to alchemisse any new sstuff.  
AS: Right, because that’s definitely one of my main concerns right now.  
DI: Perhapss it sshould be.  
DI: Or have you not noticed the impss that are beginning to emerge from variouss cornerss of your dwelling?  
AS: What, these little guys? I just gotta tell ‘em to scram and they leave me alone.  
DI: That iss impresssive, but not exactly your besst plan of action.  
DI: Impss drop grisst when killed.  
DI: I would ssuggesst that you sstop playing nice, and sstart collecting your grisst.  
AS: Yeah, I could do that.  
AS: Or, I could just use this gristtorrent thing that Sam and Dean have been using.  
AS: ‘Cause as satisfying as it is whacking imps with books on demon lore, I’m too old for this crap.  
DI: I sseem to have underesstimated you, SSinger.  
DI: Enjoy it, becausse it will not happen again.  
AS: You keep telling yourself that.  
AS: Now, you gonna sit around with your thumbs up your ass or are you gonna help me figure out this damn alchemiter thing?

As it turned out, Chuck was surprisingly good at this whole “not being killed by imps” thing. The fact that it was a voice in his head that was keeping him alive was less than ideal, but he was warming to the idea. It helped that they were at least polite.  


There is an imp creeping up behind you. I would suggest a swift about-face with your weapon at ready.  


Polite, informative, and life-saving –there really wasn’t much more one could ask from their schizophrenic manifestation. The synesthesia he was also apparently developing was really starting to throw him off, though. Thinking in the colour purple took some getting used to. He needed another drink.


	5. ACT IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will not lie, this was done quite some time ago, but I got frustrated when I formatted something wrong and left it alone for too long and forgot about it.

This whole server player thing really wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Dean got bored rather quickly of watching Sam sit around talking to someone on his laptop.  Sure, it had been cool when he’d taken out all those imps with the badass knife he’d alchemized god knows how, though Dean suspected it had something to do with whoever he was talking to. Dean also suspected that it was the crazy person that had mind-whammyed him, which made him even less okay with the whole thing.  But there were only so many imps that spawned at any given time, and they were always dispatched with too quickly to be truly entertaining.

Dean had already done his bit to get Sam into the game, and all this sitting around was making him antsy.  He handed off his laptop to the nearest nakkodile, who seemed unreasonably pleased about it.  Whatever.  They probably couldn’t mess it up too badly, and he needed the connection to stay active.  Seeing as he was intending to explore the furthest reaches of this godforsaken planet, he wasn’t entirely confident that bringing it with him was a good idea.  But then, he wasn’t entirely convinced that he was making the right decision by leaving at all.  He was actually unsure about what to do next.  It wasn’t a feeling he was used to, and it was freaking him out a bit. 

\-- rakishSentinel [RS] began pestering solitaryTempest [ST] \--    
RS: hey cas?   
RS: got a question for you   
RS: well   
RS: more like   
RS: wanna make sure i’m not gonna doom our timeline or whatever   
RS: you there?   
RS: cas?   
RS: you   
RS: uh   
RS: you okay?   
RS: you always respond right away so this is kinda freaking me out here   
RS: cas?    
ST: Yes Dean, how may I be of assistance this time.    
RS: dude no need to be like that    
ST: So you’re contacting me for a reason other than you wanting my help with something?    
RS: hey come on it’s not like that    
ST: Is it not?  Because the last time we spoke, you made it very clear that your association with me went only so far as I was a source of information about the game.   
ST: For which, by the way, you already have a sprite.  She’s been lurking over by the ruins waiting for you.   
ST: So, is there anything else, Dean?    
RS: shit cas   
RS: that’s not   
RS: i don’t   
RS: that’s not the only reason i talk to you   
RS: hell, i’m not an idiot   
RS: i could have figured half of this stuff out on my own   
RS: but i like talking to you for some weird reason   
RS: so can you stop jumping to conclusions and tell me what else is going on   
RS: because being the emotionally mature one in a conversation is really starting to freak me out    
ST: So...   
ST: You do not hate me?    
RS: hate?!   
RS: jesus cas   
RS: no    
ST: Oh.  I see.    
RS: do you want me to hate you or something?    
ST: I...   
ST: I am not used to discussing such things in such a blunt manner.    
RS: what does your race not talk about feelings?   
RS: i mean i hear ya and all but i’m pretty sure sammy would have a field day    
ST: No, no, it’s not that.   
ST: It’s just...    
RS: it’s what   
RS: cas?    
\-- solitaryTempest [ST] gave up trolling rakishSentinel [RS] \--

Dean’s plan to explore the planet was for the time forgotten as he tried to figure out just what the hell was going on with Cas.  He didn’t have to wait long, though, before he heard from yet another stranger who seemed to know who he was. 

\-- gnomicParadox [GP] began trolling rakishSentinel [RS] \--   
GP: ~*~ hɛy, dɛɑn?   
RS: who is it this time   
GP: ~*~ I'm Annɑ   
GP: ~*~ listɛn, Cɑs hɑs bɛɛn sitting hɛrɛ muttɛring ɑbout strɑngɛ humɑn ɛmotions for ɑ whilɛ now ɑnd it's kind of stɑrting to worry mɛ   
GP: ~*~ so I figurɛd I might ɑs wɛll go to thɛ sourcɛ ɑnd sɛɛ whɑt's up, sincɛ hɛ won't tɛll mɛ whɑt's wrong (:\    
RS: uh   
RS: okay   
RS: so wait how do you know cas?    
GP: ~*~ oh! hɛ's my littlɛ brothɛr (:)    
RS: huh    
GP: ~*~ lɛmmɛ guɛss, you'vɛ ɑlrɛɑdy hɛɑrd from ɑt lɛɑst onɛ of my brothɛrs?    
RS: a couple of them yeah    
GP: ~*~ which onɛs?   
GP: ~*~ wɑit   
GP: ~*~ don't tɛll mɛ   
GP: ~*~ Michɑɛl ɑnd Zɑch    
RS: uh, mt and rv?    
GP: ~*~ yɛɑh, thɑt's thɛm   
GP: ~*~ don't worry, I'm not likɛ thɛm    
RS: yeah i can tell already    
GP: ~*~ Thɑnks! (:D   
GP: ~*~ ɑnywɑy, ɛnough ɑbout thɑt   
GP: ~*~ bɑsɛd on Cɑs' muttɛring ɑnd thɛ bits of convɛrsɑtion I sɑw whɛn hɛ wɑsn't pɑying ɑttɛntion, you nɛɛd ɑ sɛrious lɛcturɛ ɑbout troll romɑncɛ   
GP: ~*~ you'rɛ giving my poor brothɛr ɑll kinds of mixɛd signɑls    
RS: mixed signals?   
RS: wait, troll?   
RS: what like those creepy dolls with the hair?    
GP: ~*~ no, silly! trolls likɛ Cɑs ɑnd mɛ (:)    
RS: you're trolls?   
RS: is this like how you're aliens?    
GP: ~*~ prɛtty much!   
GP: ~*~ hɑs Cɑs not ɛxplɑinɛd this ɑll to you?    
RS: no   
RS: he hasn't    
GP: ~*~ oh... wɛll!   
GP: ~*~ to stɑrt with, wɛ ɑrɛn't "crɛɛpy dolls"   
GP: ~*~ wɛ look ɑ bit likɛ you, ɛvɛn!   
GP: ~*~ wɛll   
GP: ~*~ sort of   
GP: ~*~ you guys ɑrɛ kind of tɑn ɑnd pink, but wɛ'rɛ grɛy ɑnd blɑck!   
GP: ~*~ ɑlso our tɛɛth ɑrɛ pointiɛr ɑnd wɛ'vɛ got horns, ɑnd probɑbly our biology is prɛtty diffɛrɛnt, but othɛr thɑn thɑt wɛ'rɛ prɛtty similɑr! (:)    
RS: huh   
RS: so that's why you do the ( thing?    
GP: ~*~ yɛp! thosɛ ɑrɛ my horns (:D    
RS: huh    
GP: ~*~ but ɛnough ɑbout thɑt   
GP: ~*~ you guys cɑn figurɛ out thɛ biology lɑtɛr (;P   
GP: ~*~ whɑt you rɛɑlly nɛɛd to know is thɑt your humɑn rɛlɑtionships ɑrɛ prɛtty diffɛrɛnt from our quɑdrɑnts    
RS: okay   
RS: what    
GP: ~*~ don't worry, it's prɛtty ɛɑsy!   
GP: ~*~ sɛɛ, whilɛ your idɛɑ of romɑncɛ consists of positivɛ fɛɛlings likɛ "lovɛ", wɛ'vɛ got ɑ fɛw morɛ options   
GP: ~*~ wɛ do hɑvɛ rɛd romɑncɛ, which is ɑ lot likɛ yours!   
GP: ~*~ wɛ hɑvɛ mɑtɛspritship, which is rɛɑlly similɑr! Wɛ cɑll it thɛ flushɛd quɑdrɑnt   
GP: ~*~ wɛ'vɛ ɑlso got moirɑllɛgiɑncɛ, which is I guɛss likɛ your friɛndship ɛxcɛpt mɑybɛ ɑ bit strongɛr   
GP: ~*~ wɛ cɑll it thɛ pɑlɛ quɑdrɑnt   
GP: ~*~ you with mɛ so fɑr? (:)    
RS: i think so?   
RS: shit i don't know just keep explaining   
RS: i just want to get to the bit where this becomes relevant to me and cas   
RS: not that I think we have some kind of weird troll quadrant thing going on   
RS: i’m just curious    
GP: ~*~ thɛrɛ's no nɛɛd to bɛ rudɛ (>:(   
GP: ~*~ i'm stɑrting to sɛɛ why my brothɛr could go blɑck for you    
RS: what the hell is that supposed to mean    
GP: ~*~ if you'd shut up ɑnd listɛn for fivɛ sɛconds you'd know!   
GP: ~*~ I wɑs just gɛtting to thɑt bit    
RS: alright i'm listening    
GP: ~*~ good   
GP: ~*~ okɑy   
GP: ~*~ so thɛ othɛr two quɑdrɑnts ɑrɛ blɑck romɑncɛ, which might bɛ ɑ bit difficult for you to gɛt bɛcɑusɛ thɛy'rɛ bɑsɛd on nɛgɑtivɛ ɛmotions but thɛy'rɛ still romɑncɛ!    
RS: what so like hatesex    
GP: ~*~ sort of!   
GP: ~*~ thɑt's kismɛsissitudɛ, or thɛ cɑliginous quɑdrɑnt   
GP: ~*~ wɛ'vɛ ɑlso got ɑuspiticism, thɛ ɑshɛn quɑdrɑnt   
GP: ~*~ it's whɛn onɛ pɛrson mɛdiɑtɛs bɛtwɛɛn two othɛrs who hɑvɛ plɑtonic hɑtɛ for ɛɑch othɛr    
RS: ooookay    
GP: ~*~ shoot, I'm not ɛxplɑining this vɛry wɛll (:(    
RS: nah i think i got most of that weirdly enough    
GP: ~*~ rɛɑlly? (:o    
RS: yeah i think so   
RS: you've got love, friendship, hatesex, and something involving frenemies and a third wheel   
RS: or close enough right?    
GP: ~*~ I guɛss!    
RS: okay so how does this relate to me giving cas mixed signals   
RS: i thought we were friends   
RS: but not like romantic friends or whatever   
RS: just like bros you know?    
GP: ~*~ wɛll hɛrɛ's thɛ thing   
GP: ~*~ don't tɛll him I told you this, but Cɑs is sort of flushɛd for you    
RS: woah   
RS: uh   
RS: really?    
GP: ~*~ yɛɑh... but don't gɛt mɑd ɑt him! hɛ cɑn't hɛlp it   
GP: ~*~ ɑnd thɛn hɛ thought you hɑtɛd him so hɛ triɛd to switch quɑdrɑnts but hɛ's hɑving troublɛ ɑnd it's killing him (:(    
RS: what literally?    
GP: ~*~ no! but hɛ's not hɑppy, thɑt's for surɛ    
RS: oh    
GP: ~*~ yɛɑh   
GP: ~*~ so figurɛ out your fɛɛlings, okɑy?   
GP: ~*~ bɛcɑusɛ I don't likɛ sɛɛing my littlɛ brothɛr hurting   
GP: ~*~ ɑnd I don't wɑnt to hɑvɛ to hurt you (:)   
GP: ~*~ good luck!    
\-- gnomicParadox [GP] gave up trolling rakishSentinel [RS] \--

Rather than deal with this new information in any constructive way, Dean chose instead to attempt to ignore it and go find his sprite.  It seemed more important now that he couldn’t just go to Cas with all his questions.  So he took off again, heading for the hulking ruins of what seemed to be some kind of church.  As he got closer, he saw that his sprite was indeed there, and seemed to be engaged in some kind of standoff with the largest imp-thing Dean had seen yet. 

Impalasprite: vrrrrrroooooom 

It was times like these that Dean regretted the decisions that had led to this being his life.  His car, which was currently in the form of a ghostly woman, was growling at a massive creature wearing a pope hat and wielding a shotgun.  There was only one thing for it, really, and so he took out his poker and hit the ground swinging.  The ogre went down surprisingly quickly, exploding into a massive pile of multicolored grist. 

His sprite, much to Dean’s frustration, didn’t stick around to chat, or to maybe tell him what the hell he was supposed to do next.  Instead, she gave him an indecipherable look and sped off through the ruins.  Dean, lacking any better idea, took off after her.  He followed her deeper into the ruin, until it seemed that they were in a tunnel underground, and drifting ever downwards.  When she stopped abruptly, Dean ran right through her.  She gave him a disapproving look as he shuddered, trying to shake off the unpleasant sensation.  It had been like being dunked in slightly-viscous slime for the briefest of seconds.  Nasty. 

When he finally looked around, he noticed that he was in a cavernous room, the walls covered in carvings depicting what seemed to be the nakkodiles he’d seen earlier.  Interspersed throughout was a heart-like motif, which Dean scoffed at.  On the far side of the cavern was a large-ish entrance to what seemed to be another large cavern.  The Impalasprite, when he looked back at her, was making meaningful gestures towards the other cavern, which Dean took as his cue to head over there.  The sprite didn’t follow him, which Dean thought was vaguely ominous, but then she seemed a bit flighty, which was rather unlike his baby.  He wondered if it was the holy water.  This train of thought was quickly derailed, however, when he realized that he was not alone.  It was pretty remarkable actually that he hadn’t noticed earlier, given that the cavern’s other occupant was a gigantic lion-headed serpent creature.  Dean reeled back in alarm, but the creature did not react with hostility.  Instead, it spoke. 

“Greetings, Knight.  I had not thought you advanced enough in your quest to seek me out.  But then, even I am wrong on occasion.” 

Dean could only gape at the creature.  After a pause, during which the creature scrutinized him at length, it spoke again. 

“However, it would seem that this occasion is not one of them.  You are not yet ready for such an encounter.  It is lucky that I have not yet fully shaken off my slumber, or my error may have been very grave indeed.  Forgive me.  I am Yaldabaoth, Son of Chaos, denizen of this realm.” 

The creature actually chuckled, chuckled, when Dean still couldn’t quite form a response. 

“You may speak, I shall allow it.  Take heart, little Knight,” Yaldabaoth gave another chuckle at that, though Dean couldn’t figure out what was funny. “I shall not kill you this time.” 

“THIS time?” Dean burst out. 

Yaldabaoth gave a solemn nod. 

“A time will come when I shall give you a choice, and we may fight.  Until then, I shall offer you guidance.  Is this acceptable?” 

Dean was skeptical, but he nodded.  His sprite sure wasn’t helping, except to lead him here. 

“Very well.  I shall say this: before you proceed any further, you must sleep to wake.” 

Dean frowned in confusion.  “Sleep to wake?” 

The denizen gave him a smile.  “Sleep, little one.  I will keep this body safe.” 

Dean was skeptical to say the least but nonetheless he sat on the floor and closed his eyes, deciding to feign sleep for a bit, then pretend to wake up and see if his denizen started making sense.  He had just closed his eyes when something smooth and warm curled around him, and he opened his eyes briefly to find that the creature’s serpentine tail had been loosely wrapped around him, almost protectively.  While his hunter’s instincts were screaming at him that he was going to be crushed to death by a giant snake creature, the presence was strangely comforting.  At any rate, he closed his eyes again and was asleep in moments. 

Dean woke, rather suspecting that he was dreaming.  For starters, he was wearing purple pyjamas that he had no recollection of putting on or indeed ever seeing before in his life.  Second, the room in which he found himself was not where he had fallen asleep, and he was fairly certain that said room hadn’t been such a vibrant shade of green when he’d seen it last.  Those would have been clues enough to tip him of that this wasn’t quite reality, but just to top things off, he looked out the window and caught sight of the mind-boggling improbability that some large purple letters informed him to be Derse.  It was a planetoid of some sort, entirely covered in vivid purple buildings, and small enough (or far enough away) that he could see that it was suspended in a vast void.  He floated out the window to get a better look, dream logic clearly taking precedence over the rational part of his brain that was currently screaming at him.  It seemed that the alternate reality version of Bobby’s spare room was housed in one of two purple towers located on a smaller purple planetoid attached to the larger purple planetoid by a massive purple chain. 

Dean wondered what his subconscious was attempting to tell him with all this purple. 

At any rate, he didn’t seem to be waking up any time soon, so he drifted over to examine the second tower. It appeared to be an exact twin of the one he had just left, and appearances held up until Dean got close enough to peer through the window.  Inside was yet another recreation of Bobby’s spare room, this time in a vivid shade of blue.  Dean was perhaps not as surprised as he could have been to find the slumbering, pajama-clad form of his brother occupying the bed.  It seemed about par for the course, really. When dream-Sam failed to wake up under Dean’s scrutiny, he gave a considering look to the books on the nearest shelf, weighing the benefits against the probability of being put in a headlock or something equally embarrassing when Sam woke up.  Since this was a dream, though, Dean figured that Sammy was probably safe asleep in his tower. Once again, Dean wasn’t sure he wanted to know what his subconscious was trying to tell him with all this Disney princess crap. 

So he floated away again, this time to investigate the larger planet down below. He followed the enormous chain down, and as he got closer he realized that he and the Sam that was in all likelihood a projection of his unconscious like something from Inception weren’t the only ones occupying this purple space rock. There were dozens if not hundreds of little black creatures scurrying around, not entirely dissimilar to the imps he’d seen on the planet he’d fallen asleep on. Instead of the religious headgear and weaponry, however, these creatures appeared to be naked but for their shiny black skin that seemed almost like a shell. They looked a bit like chess pieces, Dean realized. 

His descent did not go unnoticed. The chess piece people all stopped what they were doing as he floated down, watching him in what appeared to be awe. Some were even pointing. This made the whole thing even weirder, but there was no point backing out now, and they didn’t seem to be violent, so he touched down, and was immediately swarmed, much like the nakkodiles earlier. Unlike the strange lizard creatures, however, these did not make a sound, and their prior calm had clearly been a ruse. He found himself grasped by dozens of pointy black appendages, too pointy to be hands but not quite claws either. No amound of struggling would dislodge them, but though they were deceptively strong for their size they did nothing further to harm him. He eventually stopped struggling and allowed himself to be lead, figuring that since this was a dream, the worst that could happen would be that he would wake up, and then Yaldabaoth could explain what the hell had just happened. He tried to shake off the sense of forboding. This wasn't Inception. As far as he knew, this dream was in his own mind, so any similarity to the projections of another's subconscious detecting an unwelcome presence was entirely coincidental. Right? 

The creatures in question began to drag him through the streets, past rows of purple buildings. The colour scheme of this place wasn’t exactly diverse, Dean noted. They seemed to be heading towards the great palatial building that loomed in the distance. Dean's suspicions were confirmed as they approached and were flanked by guards who escorted them through the towering entrance. The great double doors led in to a massive hallway that extended on either side an impossibly long ways before curving out of sight. Directly across the hall, a matching set of double doors stood open into what appeared to be some sort of throne room. Dean didn't get the chance to see it, however, because before he'd been herded even halfway across the hall by the black creatures he found himself hauled upwards by the arm abruptly enough to dislodge the creatures gripping him, and then transported in a flash of light to yet another strange room. This one, unlike the others, seemed to be a more rational cement grey. Dean instinctively looked for an exit, but this room was bereft of anything even vaguely resembling a door or window. The only light came from a series of torches, which did little to illuminate the room's other occupant, who had released his arm and moved a distance away. The figure had his back to him, but something about them seemed familiar, though he had no idea why. As he stared, they spoke. 

"I apologize for the abrupt nature of our meeting, but it was imperative that the Dersite royalty not be made aware of your waking. Of course, even now a delegate will be sent to search the moon, at which point your absence will be noticed, but nonetheless I have bought us more time. Your brother still slumbers, but he has been relocated for his safety, my brother has seen to that." The room got marginally brighter, and the figure turned around with a candle in hand, giving Dean his first proper glimpse of a face that he would swear he had seen before, though he didn't know how he wouldn't have remembered it. 

His earlier conversation with Anna came back to him suddenly as he found himself staring at what was unmistakably a troll, just as she had described. His skin was grey, but not the unnatural grey of a corpse. He looked almost like a black and white photo, the strange pigmentation managed to seem natural with the dark of his hair and lips. The only colour was in they orange of his eyes and the round horns that protruded from his head, and in the vivid purple of the pyjamas that were similar to Dean's own. He smiled, showing pointed teeth. Dean wondered idly if he should be afraid, but there was no malice in that expression. Quite the opposite, in fact. 

"Hello, Dean."


End file.
